A Rogue's Fate
by Starzgirl
Summary: The 3rd & final 'Rogue' fic.  Beka and Rosto explore their new relationship together, but will changes in Corus force them apart? B/R Post-Bloodhound. Chapter 5 'A CHANGE IN THE GUARD' up!
1. Bound for Discovery

**A/N: Well, I'm back! There is no excuse for why this has taken me so long to post except that 'The Real World' sure does take up a lot of precious writing time unfortunately :( This is the third and last installment in my Rogue series, so if you haven't, I would highly recommend reading the first two fics before starting this one. :) Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter One: Bound for Discovery<strong>

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><p>Hurried footsteps slapped against the wet cobblestones. Heavy clouds covered the night sky, sending even Corus's busiest streets into shadows. It was late, the time of night when Evening Watch has long since gone home, yet still too early for merchants to be up and preparing for the market day. It was the time of night when thieves plagued the streets and those of honest repute and intelligence were in their homes behind secured doors and windows. Those too naïve or too foolish to be out at this time often learned their lesson quickly, if they were fortunate enough to escape the swift lesson of a thief's blade.<p>

Two figures hurried down a dark alley. A giggle escaped the gixie's lips as the young cove she was with pulled her along the dark alleyway. She knew naught of where they were going, but didn't mind. From what she had seen already, he was handsome in both face and coin.

She stumbled in their rushing and laughed with a slight hiccup as she pulled her skirts out from under her feet. They both glanced behind them as she righted herself and grinned at the dark, empty alley.

She hiccupped again as she turned to the cove. "I think we outrun 'im."

"You doubted my abilities?" teased the cove.

She coyly batted her eyes. "Not me, 'specially after ye stole me away from tha' ol' tosspot."

"I may not be a thief like him, but when I see something pretty I have the mind to take it." He grinned as she gave another hiccup-giggle.

"Do ye think he's still followin' us?"

"Not if he knows what's best for him. I'm the best in my year," he boasted.

The young doxie moved closer with a smile, her hand playing with a button on his tunic. "Let's see if ye can live up t' yer reputation then."

The cove's grin sharpened as he pulled her into a tight embrace. The last sound before he covered her mouth roughly with his own was the sound of her delighted giggle.

Too involved with their ministrations, the young couple failed to realize that they were no longer alone in the dark alleyway. The clouds parted enough so that moonlight filtered through, illuminating a dark figure lurking in the shadows. Even more menacing was the reflection off the sharp, steel tip of an expertly gripped blade…

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><p>A high-pitched squeal pierced the air.<p>

Some people glanced over at the noise, only to return to their own business with knowing smiles. The Rogue was a fine-looking cove and even better with a blade, and he deserved his spoils. What a lucky doxie, indeed.

Rosto leaned close to say something in the doxie's ear, causing her to emit another shrill giggle accompanied by his deep laugh. Mayhap the high color in her cheeks was evidence that she had been in her cups- or was she blushing? Was a doxie still capable of such a thing?

Whatever the reason, she apparently was a mot that had the brain of a midden hen. Otherwise, she would not be leaning so enticingly close to Corus's handsome Rogue. Not that he seemed to be bothered by it. No, the scut seemed to be enjoying himself quite thoroughly. Best to take advantage of his current happiness, for his future was looking grim, if the pair of blue-gray eyes trained on him were any indication.

Standing with her back to a wall to observe the room's occupants, her gaze did not waver from the direction of the modest dais. The tosspot. He was doing it a purpose, and Beka well knew it. Though he had yet to acknowledge her, Rosto never let anything go unnoticed- especially her presence, which had always succeeded in annoying her, and apparently still did if watching his flirtatious ministrations were any clue.

Beka restrained the urge to roll her eyes as the doxie burst into another round of giggles. No doubt the empty-headed mot thought her laughter endearing. Beka thought it likened her to a squealing piglet.

"Sure glad you're not a hedgewitch, Cooper. Otherwise the poor girl would go up in flames."

Mayhap that would finally give her the idea to move her bum, Beka thought darkly. To Tunstall, she said, "If that was the case, I'd grace our dear Rogue with a hot seat so he'd finally agree to see us."

Tunstall was fairly certain of the relationship between Rosto and his partner, but that didn't mean Beka was going to confirm his speculations. He shrugged as his eyes slid over to a gambling game going on nearby. "You know how these Rogues are. They enjoy keepin' us Dogs waitin'."

Waiting was one thing. Teasing was a whole other, the sarden spintry.

Beka watched as one of his guards stepped up to his chair. After listening to what the cove told him, Beka was watching so closely that she was able to make out what Rosto said to the guard. "Send them up." It was their cue to finally approach the Rogue.

As they approached the dais, Beka trained herself not to look at the doxie precariously perched on the arm of Rosto's chair. A slight breeze and she would end up in his lap.

When they stopped in front of the Rogue, Beka heard him tell the doxie, "Why don't you be a good mot and get your Rogue some ale? Dealing with Dogs requires a good drink." The doxie laughed yet again, smirking at the Dogs in question. Rosto, the tarse, had yet to even look at them. Instead, he kept his gaze trained lazily on the doxie, who still lingered by his side. With a wicked grin, he reached out and gave her an encouraging pat on the bum, sending her off to get his ale with a delighted squeal.

Beka tried not to sear him with a glare when he finally turned his attention to them. Acting as if he had all the time in the Realm, he drawled, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening? Have you finally come to your senses and decided to join my side?"

"Y' know why we've come, Piper. We're inquirin' about the haMinch lad," replied Tunstall. That morning, Day Watch had discovered the boy, knifed in a dark alley of the Cesspool. Everyone from here to Barsun had heard of the murder.

"I've heard naught about it that hasn't already been passed on by your Birdies," answered Rosto, idly.

"Mayhap y' might be willin' to indulge us with somethin' the Birdies failed t' tell us?"

Rosto met Tunstall's gaze. "It's to my understanding that the boy finally got too big for his britches and stuck his nob in the wrong place. Strutting through dark Corus streets is a way to get anyone killed, nobleman or filcher."

"'Specially with a pretty doxie and a purse jinglin' with plenty of coin at his side," agreed Tunstall.

Rosto dipped his head in acknowledgement.

"Has the lad ever visited your Court afore?"

Taking the ale the doxie had returned with, Rosto gave Tunstall a look. "Squires and heirs of wealthy families are hardly common visitors in my courts, and from what I've heard, the boy liked to think he owned the streets. From my experience, braggarts don't prefer to yield to common-born Rogues like myself." He paused, his fingers reaching up to toy with the doxie's. "As for my whereabouts last night, it seems the heir of haMinch was not the only one enjoying female company."

Beka thanked the gods that Rosto kept his eyes on Tunstall, as her body threatened to shift uncomfortably.

"Very well," Tunstall said, feeling the inquiry was over. "Fortune was on your side, your night endin' on a better note than the lad's it seems."

A glint returned to the Rogue's eye, a smile playing at his lips. "Yes, but I like to think I played more of a part in it its success than fortune."

The doxie giggled as Rosto ran his knuckles softly against the palm of her hand. The player.

Rosto's gaze shifted for the first time to Beka. Their eyes met, and Beka narrowed her eyes a fraction, enough to cause Rosto's eyes to glitter with thinly concealed amusement. "And what of you, Guardswoman Cooper? Nothing to accuse your Rogue of today? My name usually comes so easily to your lips when wickedness comes into play." Most would have missed it, but Beka was keenly aware of the twitch of his lips at his words. Almost as aware of it as she was of his strong jaw, which she desperately wished to connect with her fist. The arrogant spintry.

Gazing unaffectedly into Rosto's clearly dancing eyes, Beka replied in a bored voice, "My hobbles would already be on your wrists if I suspected your involvement, I assure you that."

"Pity. That prospect almost makes me regret my lack of involvement in the whole affair, for I'm certain that taking down yet another Rogue would bring you great pleasure." Some of the Court gathered close by laughed, recalling the Bloodhound's renowned capture of Pearl Skinner in Port Caynn. Rosto openly grinned, his insinuations effectively concealed in his words. Beka's baton hand itched to wipe the smug look from his face.

He would pay for this later.

Rosto sighed dramatically as he relaxed back in his chair. "Alas, you will not find yourself binding my hands tonight, Cooper."

Two could play his game. "Mayhap not, but the night is still young," she informed him, "Who knows what mischief you'll be up to later that might require it." With that, Beka turned on her heel to leave, noting with immense satisfaction the way Rosto's eyes had darkened with her promise-laced parting words.

Thoroughly unarmed by her announcement, its full implication only made aware to him, Rosto failed to notice the doxie running the back of her fingers down his cheek. He was too busy watching the retreating black-clad form making her way through the crowd, hard-pressed to stop himself from trailing after her like a besotted puppy.

Oh, she would pay for that last comment later, of that Rosto was convinced.

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><p><strong>AN: The murder of the haMinch heir, Beka and Rosto's innuendo-laced banter…makes for a good start! :) Don't worry, the next chapter will be much longer and we'll get some much needed Beka/Rosto time! It'll probably be about a week until I post the next chapter, as I will be busy reading Mastiff in the meantime! :) (And for those of you that have started "When Paths Cross" I have put that on hiatus until after reading Mastiff and probably finishing this fic. Since it's been so long, I've decided to hopefully work in the Mastiff plot into the fic. We'll see after I finish the new book!) Anyway, hope you like the beginning of the fic! Rosto had it coming for teasing Beka like that! :P**


	2. Awareness

**A/N: I forgot to put the disclaimer, so here we go:**

**Disclaimer (applies to all chapters): I do not own any characters, places, or objects created by Tamora Pierce. Oh, how I wish I did.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: Awareness<strong>

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><p>Walking into the courtyard of Mistress Trout's lodgings, Achoo bounded from Beka's side to sniff at Kora's herb garden.<p>

"It smells the same as when you smelled it this morning, you silly pup," Beka told her. Nevertheless, Achoo kept nosing through the herbs. A sneeze racketed through her lithe body as she stuck her nose in a pepper plant. "Serves you right for sticking your nose where it isn't wanted. _Kemari._"

Achoo lifted her head and looked at her master. Then her head was once again buried in the plants. Beka sighed and warned the overeager pup that she'd send Pounce down to fetch her later. Beka headed inside.

It had been a long day, starting early that day when she had been out at Glassman Square, the news of the day having drifted to her from the loud gossip of the women washing their clothes around the fountain.

"Did y' hear? Found the boy in a back alley, they did."

A gray-haired woman had shaken her head with sympathy. "Cut down with a young doxie at his side. 'Tis a shame the lad took such pleasure in drink, gamblin', doxies, and the like. Ain't gonna reflect well on 'is poor family."

"The lad 'ad it comin', if y' ask me," had voiced another mot. "'Bout time some nobles were made aware of what we lower city folk go through. They strut around, thinkin' they own our streets. Serves 'em right, it does." The hard-voiced mot had scrubbed her clothes in the cold water with strong, able hands, her lined face reflecting the hardship of living in the Lower City.

The most sympathetic of the three, the gray-haired mot's lips had thinned into a grim line. "Take notice, they will. But when nobles start a-sniffin' around the Lower City, it only succeeds in bringin' more trouble than it's worth."

Hearing the wizened mot's words at the time, Beka had to agree. Now, returning home after the end of her Watch, she was reminded of the woman's words. The haMinch heir's death had caused quite a stir already, with a whole day having yet to pass since its happening. The Lower City was humming with the news, but Beka's Watch passed much the same as any other night- filcher's with itchy fingers trying to relieve passersby of some coin, reports of stolen goods, tosspots stirring up trouble in the local taverns.

Although the boy's death was the subject of many conversations, the mumpers still begged, doxies still seduced, and loose Dogs still took their bribes. Life in Corus's Cesspool continued on as normal- but that was not what the old mot at the fountain was worried about, and when Beka had entered guardhouse before training it was as if the gray-haired woman's worries had come true. Goodwin and the other sergeants had been held in a meeting behind closed doors, but most Dogs were Lower City folks themselves and knew how to gossip as well as the washerwomen- the nobles were in an uproar over the haMinch boy's murder and were bringing it down on the Dogs' heads.

A pile of scummer was what it was. Only a looby-or a nobleman- could think Dogs could be everywhere at once, let alone following around a foolish squire with a penchant for raising bets and doxies' skirts.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Beka let herself into her rooms. Quickly adjusting to the darkness, Beka lit a nearby candle. Absentmindedly, her hands reached back to loosen her braid, removing the spiked strip that had surprised many a Rat so far. Catching sight of a healed scar on one of her hands, Beka bit back her anger. Nobles had no idea of the work Dogs faced. Nonetheless, Beka had a feeling that the nobles would not be easily deterred from interfering in their work, and her instincts were fairly sharp- which is why her hands stilled before tugging off her black tunic and breeches.

A feeling of a whole different kind overcame her as awareness slid over her. Beka's hands fell to her side.

She turned and a slight movement in the dim light outlined a form lazily rocking back on the hind legs of one of her chairs, one booted leg draped over the chair arm. He looked as comfortable as if he still sat upon his dais.

His low voice matched his relaxed state as he teased, "Please, by all means do not stop on my account. A cove such as myself looks forward to such nightly entertainment."

"And if said 'entertainment' does not feel like entertaining?"

"Then I suppose it falls upon me to pick up the slack. Though one could argue that I already did my fair share last night, in that regard." Even though she couldn't see his face, Beka knew his eyes danced in complement to a smug grin.

Beka moved toward him and raised an eyebrow. "You're awfully sure of yourself, Master Cocksure, seein' as how mere hours ago you were makin' eyes at the likes of that squealin' doxie of yours."

Rosto's grin widened. He loved it when her speech slipped slightly into Lower City cant and she knew it. "The only thing I was making eyes at was your retreating back, drooling like a page boy." His bright eyes slid down to her waist as a hand reached out to finger the hobbles attached to her belt. "Especially after hearing such enticing promises." His bold gaze lifted to pin hers once again.

Beka rolled her eyes, trying to act far less effected than she was feeling. Not that it mattered much. The sarden spintry could charm a temple priestess out of her vows with nary more than a look if it pleased him, and he knew it. And Beka was no temple priestess.

Which is why she was probably saved from the Goddess's wrath when she did what she did next, when she recalled her Granny Fern's words, "Give 'em a taste of their own medicine, Beka. Then they'll see how much they like it." Of course, Granny Fern had been referring to the scummer that was brought in to Jane Street Kennel night after night, not a hot-eyed Rogue. But in this instance, Beka decided to use it for a whole other reason on the insolent cove lounging in front of her.

Reaching for the hobbles, Beka took them in her hands. Eyebrows rising in piqued interest, Rosto watched closely as her fingers played with the leather. She noticed his chair suddenly stilled in its rocking and it was all she could do to keep a smile from her face. Slowly moving closer, aware of Rosto's eyes memorizing her every move, she lifted a leg to rest her knee on the seat of his chair. His eyes flared with surprise and the front legs of the chair hit the floor with a thud, followed quickly by two worn boots. Beka leaned in and she was sure she saw him swallow with some difficulty. With the hobbles in one hand, she reached out…

… and set them on the small table behind him before backing off, turning her back to him, and moving to the trunk at the foot of her bed. "You're not the only one who can tease, Rosto the Piper."

She was barely able to revel in her victory before two strong hands spun her around and she found herself engaged in a heated kiss. Thorough in all areas of his life, it was a while before Rosto lifted his head with a rough chuckle. "Well played, love. You could give the doxies and orange girls a run for their money, if I wasn't intent on keeping you all to myself. I am a selfish cove." He dipped his head toward her neck, a pleased smile on his face.

Knowing that would only serve to jumble her thoughts more than they already were after that kiss, Beka pulled back out of his reach.

Sensing it as a challenge, Rosto's eyes glittered and he matched every step she took back with a forward one of his own. "The way you let doxies fondle you, I guess you would be the best to measure seductive skills."

"I have to keep up appearances, I'm the Rogue. I can't be seen chasing a Dog." Beka backed up into the bed and Rosto closed the space between them, his hands taking holding of her waist. "No matter how pretty she may be." He grinned down at her as his hands teased the hem of her tunic.

"You honestly think people don't know?"

He shrugged. "Of course some do. It's their job to know almost everything." He felt her tense beneath his fingers and he looked at her intently. "Beka, love. Relax. Some people are going to find out. This city runs on loose mouths."

"Word spreads faster than you can throw a dagger," she muttered in agreement.

"Don't tell me this is yet another of your roundabout ways in trying to blame me for another killing," he joked.

She gave him a look not devoid of humor. "Then those hobbles over there would be put to good use."

"What if I told you I already thought of many ways in which they could be put to good use? _Better_ use?"

"I'm sure you have," admitted Beka, seeing the way his dark eyes glittered wickedly. "But mayhap another night. I've had a long day."

Loosening herself from his grip, she moved back to the trunk holding her clothes and belongings. Rosto laughed and threw himself on her bed, waking up a sleeping Pounce who quickly dismounted the bed, muttering something about finding an overeager pup sniffing around the gardens while giving the two of them the privacy to sniff around each other.

Ignoring the displeased cat, Rosto watched as Beka pulled her tunic over her head, before bending over to rummage in the trunk. "If you're wanting to go to sleep anytime soon, you're not doing a very good job of it, Cooper."

Beka straightened to give him a questioning look.

His gaze slid over her body, now topless except for her breastband. "You were dressed like this the day I moved in here. I remember seeing you on the top of the stairs looking just like you do now and it was all I could do then not to carry you off to the nearest bed. And given the fact that things have definitely changed between us, and I am laying on your bed right now, I don't trust my restraint to last much longer, love."

Ignoring what he had said, she asked instead, "Where are my nightshirts?"

Rosto effected an innocent expression. "Kora came to collect the wash before you came home. They needed to be washed."

"_All_ of them?"

"I thought you had worn them all."

"Not for very long if I recall…" she muttered to herself. Rosto couldn't restrain himself any longer and grinned.

Bending over, Beka took off her boots before moving toward the bed. Telling him to move over, she slipped under the covers.

Rosto, turning on his side and propping his head up on an elbow, hooked a hand underneath the cover and narrowed his eyes at her body beneath. "Breeches in bed?" he asked with a raised eyebrow as she snatched the bedcovers back down.

She narrowed her eyes. "Not all of us have Scanran blood like you, and my legs get cold at night," she defended.

He rolled on to his back and sighed in mock defeat. "Remind me to tell Kora next time she needs to wash all your damned breeches too." Then he turned his face towards her, dropping his eyes lower before looking back at her and adding, "And while we're at it, breastbands."

Beka had to laugh. "Then I'll be sure to freeze," she declared.

"Mmm, I have serious doubts about that," he answered with another slow heated glance down her body, his lips twitching in amusement. "It's something us Scanran-born learn from an early age."

"What's that?"

"The quickest way to warm a human body."

"Oh, really?"

He turned back on to his side as he spoke, his hands lazily drawing designs on the covers as he looked at her and nodded. "This technique has saved countless lives," he affirmed with put-on sincerity.

"And has created many more, I'm sure," she replied, her eyes dancing with laughter.

Rosto laughed before saying, "And as a distinguished member of the Provost's Guard, in case you should ever find yourself out in the cold, I am willing to demonstrate its effectiveness."

Beka narrowed her eyes, but she was smiling. "Well-played, Rosto. You could give the spintries a run for their money."

"This is where you're supposed to say that you're a selfish mot and want me all to yourself," he reminded her with a grin.

She returned the grin. "Master Cocksure."

"Coward," Rosto accused with a smile, leaning closer.

"Thief."

"Dog."

"You're a white-haired looby. But I love you."

"_Cornsilk_. And, I know."

"Vain," Beka said on a laugh, before their smiling lips came together in a long kiss.

After parting, Rosto announced, "Now, let's get these breeches to Kora as soon as we can, shall we? You know what she does to doors when she's angry."

Beka chuckled and Rosto kissed her again. "Plus," he added, "they're going to hinder my demonstration." With a wicked grin on his face, Rosto moved to bury both of them under the covers, both of them laughing as they quickly came back together in an embrace.

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><p><strong>AN: Hope to have the next chapter up soon! Hope you enjoyed this one! A bit of fluff (okay, a chapter full) never hurts! :P**


	3. An Unexpected Arrival

**A/N: Enjoy :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter Three: An Unexpected Arrival<strong>

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><p><em>Guards House<em>

The room was quiet as everyone listened to the Lord Provost speak. "Commander, the boy's death is a tragedy and I wish it had never occurred, but I have our best guardsmen trying to identify and track down his killer. You know the Cesspool. People in that area are tight-lipped and keep their eyes averted from any suggestion of wrong-doing. We are doing all we can-"

"Don't feed me lines meant to comfort a wailing mother; he wasn't just some merchant's scamp! He's the heir of haMinch, my brother's eldest son, and my nephew! Why has nothing been found? My nephew has been dead for over a week!"

"I assure you, Sir Vannic, that the investigation is still our priority. His death reflects badly on the Guard-"

"My nephew was murdered. You speak of bringing justice to the Lower City, yet where is this justice? I see no evidence of it. Meanwhile, our Dogs are strolling down the streets, pocketing bribes from any lowlife that can scrounge it up. Who's to say that two guards did not take coin to avoid the alley where my brother's boy was killed? Everyone knows Corus's Dogs have an eye for a flash of coin."

Beka's hands fisted in her lap as she felt both Tunstall and Ersken tense on either side of her. A low, vibrating hum filled the air of the small chamber. As distinctive as the Growl was, its origin was impossible to discern. It still raised the hair on the back of her neck whenever she heard it, but Commander Vannic haMinch seemed unaffected. He sat before them, his face red with rage as his body fairly shook with anger. Everyone could understand his grief over his nephew's murder, but his slurs against the respectability of the Guard would not be excused.

Lord Gershom held up a hand to silence the growing noise. He had called this meeting of Corus's most respected and senior Dogs to discuss the haMinch boy's murder yet again. This was the third meeting since the tragedy over a week afore. With the exception of the first meeting, the following two they knew were only held for formality.

No one had found a trace of the boy's murderer, and the likelihood of discovering any evidence faded with each passing day. Beka traveled each day to her dust spinners and fed her pigeons, but nothing, which hadn't surprised her. The squire and doxie had both received fatal knife wounds, one each that the palace healers had claimed killed them both instantly. Such an expertly placed knife meant that their killer was well-versed in the handling of a blade, someone that lived a life rife with killing and fighting to stay alive. It seemed that the haMinch heir had simply crossed the wrong person this time around, which also was not surprising, as the only thing the Dogs conducting the investigation had found out was that the boy had a weakness for tossing back his cups at gambling dens and bordels. As expected, this discovery was not the one the nobles and the boy's family wished to hear.

"Commander haMinch," began Lord Gershom, with a calmness Beka admired, though his voice was hard, "it does not benefit us in making bold accusations before any leads have been discovered."

"Then mayhap we should bring in better Guards to do the discovering," he replied darkly.

Beka heard the unmistakable sound of another Growl mounting, but it was quickly stopped once again by Lord Gershom's raised hand.

"The blame has no place amongst these Guards. And if you are unsatisfied with their progress, you are free to take part in the investigation yourself, commander."

That succeeded in shutting Sir Vannic's gob, but Beka swore his face reddened further as his jaw clenched with the obvious dismissal.

The remainder of the meeting carried out much the same as the previous one- talk to anyone that might have seen the squire or the doxie that night, and follow any leads. Then they were dismissed.

Leaving the kennel, Beka and Tunstall walked out with Ersken and his partner Birch.

"I didn't think Sir Vannic had it in him to speak out against Lord Gershom like that," commented Ersken.

Birch shrugged a shoulder. "He's been hangin' around the council lords a lot lately. Makes him remember his noble upbringin', thinkin' he's better than all o' us. This time he just forgot he was without his noble friends around to back him up here. The cages scare the criminals away, whereas the smell does it for the nobles."

Tunstall stood up on his tiptoes and took a long sniff, spreading his arms wide as if to embrace the night air. "The only thing I smell is the promise of warm meat pasties."

"The market is blocks away, no one's smell is that good," said Birch with a laugh.

"Then it must be the knowledge that they're there," he replied with a grin. "Questioning Birdies is for naught on a rumblin' stomach."

"Not to mention the wild goose chase that they all send us on afterwards," Beka added wryly.

The people of the Lower City had quickly learned that the Dogs were sniffing after any information about the night of the boy's murder. This had only caused an inundation of mumpers and cracknobs to sweep in to the kennel with information in return for a small reward of bread or a few coppers. The same happened on duty. More often than not, the Dogs, including Tunstall and Beka, found their selves at dead ends and their purses less a few coins by the end of their Watch.

"What, Cooper, you missin' our nightly tavern brawls?" teased Tunstall.

"More'n likely, they're missin' her." Turning around at the new voice, they were met by a flash of a white smile in a face dark enough to suggest Barzunni ancestry. Dressed in the garb worn by the Provost's Guard, the newcomer rubbed his chin in memory. "Never been in a tavern brawl livelier than one with the famed Bloodhound in it."

"And Rafe here'll never forget it," laughed Tunstall, punching him playfully in the shoulder.

The cove, Rafe, grinned. "I think some of my back teeth are still loose." He wiggled his jaw and everybody laughed.

"Then I guess tha' means I can have yer share at th' Mantel and Pullet tonight," joked Rafe's senior Dog partner.

"As if you need the excuse to eat more than you already do," Rafe joked in return, causing his large partner to laugh.

"Mmm, the Mantel and Pullet," Tunstall contemplated aloud. Then, the idea quickly agreeing with him, he turned to Beka, "Sounds like a good change of pace to me, how 'bout you, Cooper?"

Beka agreed before quickly amending, "As long as no one steals my food."

"If you whip out that baton, you have nothing to worry about," Rafe told her with a wink.

Back when Beka was a Puppy a few years afore, Goodwin, Tunstall, and Beka had gotten tangled up in a particularly nasty tavern fight at the Barrel's Bottom. That night they had met Lady Sabine and, as it turns out, Rafe. Fresh off the boats and caught up in the melee, Rafe had been greeted by the wicked tap of Beka's swinging baton his first night in Corus. Two weeks later, after the swelling of his jaw had healed, he signed up for training. Now he was a second year Dog, despite being a few years older than Beka and Ersken, and doling out nap taps himself.

The three senior Dogs were already leading the way to the eating house when Rafe's partner turned around, "Rafe, y' rascal, what was tha' joke you were tellin' me th' other day involvin' three doxies and a Mithran priest…?"

Chuckling, Rafe excused himself. Before leaving he leaned over and half-whispered to Beka, "I think his memory's goin'."

Ersken looked on as Beka laughed. Rafe's light eyes lit with interest. What with his unusual light eyes framed with eyelashes that reached to the Scanran border, and his perfect white smile in a face his own sisters would whisper in giggles about, Rafe was a handsome cove whose dark skin only added to his feminine appeal.

Pox and Murrain.

"Keep eyeing her that way and a baton will be the least of your worries if Rosto sees," Ersken muttered to himself, shaking his head as he followed with a sigh.

Across the square, a pair of gray eyes looking on was sharing the same thoughts, having suffered a near pounding himself at the hands of the city's Rogue for the same reason. Rosto the Piper didn't like anyone sniffing around Beka Cooper…

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><p>Rosto the Piper didn't like surprises any more than the next cove, and the man seated off to the side of the Dancing Dove's great room was indeed a surprise. Rosto had seen naught of the cove since their first- and last- encounter, and he was content to keep it that way. But apparently the cove had other ideas. Chatting amiably with a group of men throwing dice, the unwelcome cove seemed to make friends wherever he went.<p>

"Somethin' the matter, majesty?"

Rosto glanced at his guard standing beside him, realizing belatedly that he had expressed his displeasure out loud with a grunt. Dismissing the guard with a wave of his hand, Rosto looked back at the cove- only to see Beka and Tunstall walk through the door. Rosto cursed under his breath. Involuntarily his guard again leaned in to ask if something was wrong but quickly pulled back. Best not to disturb a Rogue with knives quicker than a doxie's smile, he decided wisely.

Happy Bag night. Usually he couldn't wait to catch sight of the lithe figure in black leaning against a wall or column, her place chosen specifically to give her a clear view of the goings on in the Dove. Even more, he found a wicked pleasure in making her wait, feeling those blue-gray eyes on him, challenging him to look her way. It was a game they played every week. Beka was generally a patient mot but wasting time on her Watch always shook her tail. Unfortunately shaking her tail was just one of the many things Rosto loved doing most to his Beka.

But mayhap more unfortunate was the fact that of all the nights, this had to be the night for them to collect the Happy Bags. Rosto found himself agreeing with the popular thief saying- Rotten timing goes to the Dogs.

Taking one of her usual places along the wall, Beka slowly scanned the room and its occupants. Spotting a dice game across the hall, Beka narrowed her eyes slightly. Though she could not see his face, the way the cove with his back to her held himself seemed very familiar. He moved and his face turned…but Beka's view was interrupted by someone stepping in front of her.

"Appears we're bein' treated extra special tonight, Cooper," said Tunstall, nodding toward the dais. "Our Rogue awaits."

Brows knitting together, Beka looked to where Rosto sat- and found her eyes connecting with his dark ones.

Not sure what game he was getting at, she walked beside Tunstall up to the raised platform. During the following exchange, Rosto and Tunstall engaged in their usual conversation, but Beka could tell that Rosto was slightly distracted. Never had they been greeted by the Rogue so quickly. Before she knew it, she and Tunstall were turning to the door, Happy Bags in hand.

Odd. None of Rosto's usual banter, or in her case, innuendo. Now why the rush to get them out of there, Beka had naught a clue-

Beka stopped in her tracks when she spotted the cove waiting near the door, his easy smile directed toward her.

"Hello, pretty Puppy."

Raising an eyebrow, it suddenly all made sense- Rosto's distraction, her and Tunstall's quick reception, the familiar feeling Beka had gotten upon seeing the cove leaning over the dice game. The only thing that didn't make sense was why he was here. Which is why she heard herself asking, "Dale, what are you doing here?"

And more pressing, what was he doing here, in Rosto's Court, still breathing?

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><p><strong>AN: Ahhh the return of Dale. Always makes for an interesting time! :P I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	4. Killing Two Birds With One Stone

**A/N: Okay, here we go, chapter 4! Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Four: Killing Two Birds With One Stone<strong>

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><p>Although Rosto knew Beka was his, it still didn't mean he liked seeing her chatting with Dale Rowan.<p>

Restraining from pushing himself out of his chair in order to find out what they were talking about, Rosto forced himself to focus on the elderly mot in front of him voicing her problems. He knew if he went marching over to explore what was being said between Beka and Rowan, on the morrow everybody on this side of the Olorun would know he was bedding Beka Cooper, famous and well-respected Dog with close ties to the Lord Provost. While some rumors already had spread, there was no reason to make it obvious outright.

Which meant Rosto had to sit back and grit his teeth while Dale Rowan showered Beka with his wide-mouthed smiles. Pox rot it.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Beka listened as Dale explained his latest journeys and how he had come to pass through Corus.

"The gambling halls are suffering there," he explained of Port Caynn. "Travelers passing through looking for a game are all the reason why the halls are still open. But their noses are just barely above the water. What with that happening, I'm looking to take up lodgings elsewhere. My purse will elsewise suffer if I don't find a city rife with others interested in flipping some coin. And Port Caynn is without a Rogue to divest of some wealth." He grinned, and seeing Beka's look, laughed. "Worry not, my dear, Rosto the Piper does not gamble coin and I'm known not to be in his favors for reasons I am sure you are well aware of."

Beka shifted but held his gaze. They were interrupted from furthering their conversation- or rather Dale's telling and Beka's listening- when Tunstall reminded them of the happy bags they carried. They might be in the Rogue's Court but that did not mean the bags' contents were safe from itchy fingers.

"Until later then, guardswoman," Dale said, bowing to Beka and then turning to do the same to Tunstall. "Guardsman." And with that, Dale dismissed himself.

Later? Beka hoped for all their sake there would not be a later.

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><p><em>Later That Evening…<em>

Taking advantage of his craftily conceived back entrance to the Dove known only to himself, Rosto entered his rooms as quietly as a cat. The man he found waiting for him, unaware so far of Rosto's presence, was expected.

"This is not the first time I've come to find you waiting in my rooms, bank courier."

Dale Rowan spun around, though Rosto gave him credit for not jumping at his sudden appearance. His calm response was somewhat of a disappointment to Rosto, who would have experienced a wicked amount of satisfaction in scaring the cove a bit. Too bad Rowan did not ever seem to want to humor him. In fact, Rosto thought with a scowl, the cove was most likely taking pleasure in his presence, knowing that he was keeping Rosto from Beka's bed. The scut.

But Dale Rowan wasn't here to search for better gambling games as he undoubtedly told Beka. He was here for a purpose all together different, and Rosto had a Rogue's hunch as to the nature of that purpose.

Recovering quickly from the Rogue's sudden appearance, Dale said matter-of-factly, "You know why I'm here. I'm here to see her."

Rosto took a seat and leaned back in his chair as he studied the man across from him. No matter how much he wished elsewise, Dale Rowan was a decent cove. It would be so much easier if he was the scummer Rosto accused him of being. Rosto disliked not liking decent coves.

"And what makes you so sure she wants to see you, Master Rowan?"

Matching his steady gaze, Dale replied, "Because I'm her friend, and I'm worried about her."

"She is safe, of that I can assure you."

Dale leaned forward, elbows resting on the table between them. "_How_ safe?" In explanation, he continued, "I've just come from Port Caynn, and as you have no doubt heard, Lord Valdric is tightening his reins on the city's thieves. The Council of Lords is behind him completely."

Rosto nodded, as this news was widely known.

"They won't stop in Port Caynn, especially after the nobles' outrage over the haMinch boy's murder. They're not happy with Lord Gershom. I've heard rumors…"

"As have I," Rosto acceded, though he had heard more than mere rumors. Dale Rowan might have connections, but they didn't extend nearly as far as Rosto's.

"For both your safety and hers, I think we both realize it is best if she leave Corus. And I've come to take her away."

Rosto knew the time would come, and with the heat coming down on Corus's Dogs, now was better than ever. Already ahead of the cove sitting in front of him, Rosto had already been inquiring around for safe passage out of Corus earlier that evening. Hiding Fair Flory in his Corus Court was dangerous to say the least. And with the tides changing with the recent murder of the heir of haMinch in Corus's street, it was now more dangerous than ever. By giving Rowan coin to take Flory out of Corus, he'd also be getting rid of him. Killing two birds with one stone certainly held its appeal.

"And you plan to help her escape? I admit, Rowan, I don't know you well, but you seem to be a cove that doesn't like to get too…involved." Rosto looked him straight in the eye.

Comprehending the meaning behind his words, Dale looked away. "What happened in Port Caynn was rotten. It should never have happened and I want to help her get away from it all. She didn't deserve it."

Deep in thought, Rosto studied the wooden tabletop. Then, after a long silence, he said, "I'll have passage for you tomorrow. It's best for us all that she leaves soon."

Dale nodded and stood. Before opening the door, he turned back. "About Beka." Rosto glanced up. "As you know, she's a stubborn mot. Don't let her do anything too rash." He suddenly grinned before adding, "Although one could say falling for the Rogue qualifies."

"Better a Rogue than a gambler," Rosto quipped, the tone in the room changing with their unusual banter that was part competitive and bordered on tolerant but never quite friendly.

"Unfortunately, our dear Beka seems to agree with your way of thinking."

Conscious of his deliberate use of _our dear Beka_, Rosto returned Dale's grin with one as sharp as one of his daggers. "I've always said she's a smart mot."

"That she is, majesty." And with that, Dale went to leave the room, acceding his defeat with a nod. But he stopped just before the door and turned. His expression was serious. "I will have you know that I did care for Beka. I do care for her. If any harm comes to her because of her involvement with you-"

The long thin blade that suddenly appeared in one of Rosto's hands silenced Dale. His dark eyes matched the sharpness of his blade as Rosto said, "Your concern is for naught, bank courier. My blades fly quicker than your honeyed words, and Beka needs not a man to protect her. I think you would have learned that from your time with her."

Considerably chastened, Dale pulled on the door with another nod. "I'll stop by to collect the coin for passage in the morning." And with that, he left.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Rosto stood and headed back the way he had come, grabbing a dark cloak as he went. The air was damp down at the river docks this time of night…

* * *

><p>The next morning, the typical breakfast group looked up to see Dale Rowan walk through the door.<p>

Kora's eyes widened with recognition, Fuzzball shooting out of her lap with a screech as the pasty in Kora's hand dropped onto the cat's head. She darted a worried glance at Ersken beside her, but all he did was pop the fallen pasty into his mouth as he looked at the new cove curiously. He didn't know what Dale Rowan looked like.

Apparently Aniki was quicker to catch on, if her greeting was any indication. With a wicked grin, she jested, "I'd hide the knives, but I don't think it'd help you anyway."

Dale's eyebrows raised in surprise. "You know who I am?"

"I make it my business to know everyone that walks through the doors of the Dove. Besides, Rosto takes dagger practice at a picture on his wall that looks uncannily like you, Master Rowan." Her grin sharpened.

Beka shook her head, disproving Aniki's words as Aniki cackled loudly. "You're a brave cove, bank courier. Gettin' on the bad side of the Rogue and you usually take up residence on the bottom of the Olorun."

"I don't fancy getting wet anytime soon," he commented dryly.

"Then if you were smart you'd be going on your way. Rosto isn't as friendly as me." Aniki fingered a blade teasingly in her fingers with a dangerous smile.

"Rowan?" questioned Ersken, glancing at Dale in a new light.

Dale lifted his hand to his forehead and took a half bow in greeting. "Dale Rowan. But I have a feeling you already know that now."

Ersken extended his hand. "Ersken Westover, friend and fellow Dog of Beka." They shook hands.

"You're ma was too soft on you, Westover. I'd protect that hand if I were you. Rosto's daggers are sharp. I would know since I sharpen them myself," commented Aniki with another wicked smile at Dale.

"What are you doing here, Dale?" Beka asked, not unkindly. But she was curious…

"Seems to me he's wantin' to meet the Black God," Aniki muttered loud enough to be heard.

"Then he's come to the right place." Everyone turned to see Rosto leaning in the doorway. This time both Ersken and Kora exchanged worried looks while Tansy and her husband Herun, not sure what was going to happen, started to quickly pack a basket of food. Aniki, on the other hand, sat forward to make sure she didn't miss anything.

Rosto crossed the room and took his place next to Beka, sitting closer than usual. Then he placed a tunic in her lap she hadn't realized he had been holding and leaned in toward her. "You left this in my rooms last night." Beka could feel her face burning as she realized he had purposefully said it loud enough for everyone to hear. Specifically Dale.

Then Rosto reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag of coins, tossing them to Dale. Quick on his reaction, Dale caught it with one hand. Dale grinned, "You're easier to get coin off of than Pearl Skinner. I didn't even have to pretend to lose."

Ignoring his remark, Rosto told him, "That's enough to cover your passage out of Corus. Today."

Dale tossed the bag up in the air and caught it in his other hand. "Fair enough, I'm not one to cross a Rogue more than once," he nodded and headed toward the door. With one look back he gave Beka a wink. "See you, Beka." Then he mock-bowed to Rosto. "Majesty."

Everybody let out a breath of relief, except Aniki who sighed with disappointment, when Dale left. Beka, regaining her composure, picked up the dropped tunic and threw it at Rosto's chest. He caught it and raised his hands innocently, "What?"

"You know what."

He grinned smugly. "I like it when you blush."

Beka went to shove him but Rosto was quicker. Grabbing her outstretched hand, he pulled her into his lap. "Mmm, now this is more like it," he purred into her ear.

As Beka cursed and struggled to get out of his grasp, the others exchanged amused glances and started to head for the door. Following, Aniki sighed loudly. "I need to find me a cove. I wonder if I can catch up to that Rowan fellow. I rather liked him."

Kora raised an eyebrow at her friend. "Did you decide that before or after you told him you're excellent at sharpening knives?"

Aniki did naught but laugh as she disappeared through the door along with the others.

"You can stop struggling now, love, it's only us."

Beka glared up at a smiling Rosto. "You're far too sure of yourself for your own good."

"Usually mots like confident coves."

"That's only because you're good at interrupting a mot's clear thinking. You get us thinking like mere gixies."

Rosto leaned his head down and nipped gently at her jaw. Then he lifted his head and asked with twinkling eyes, "However are we capable of doing that?"

Beka gave him an arched look before pushing herself off his lap.

"Where are you running off to?"

Arms crossed over her chest, Beka looked down at him. When a few moments passed and she said nothing, Rosto leaned back on his hands and raised an eyebrow up at her. "Don't keep your man waiting. What's got those wheels turning in that pretty head of yours?"

"That bag of coins. There were more coins in that bag than what is needed for one man's passage to Port Caynn. It looked too heavy."

One corner of Rosto's mouth pulled up in an appreciative grin. "Darling, your talents are wasted with the Dogs."

"Are you going to tell me why you paid Dale more than was needed?"

"No," he replied simply.

"If Dale is working for the Rogue-"

Beka was cut off by Rosto's sharp laugh. "Hardly. He cares too much about his own bum to ever get caught up in something that could cost him his life."

Recognizing the look in her eyes, Rosto assured her, "Don't worry, he does nothing that goes against the law, my love, of that I can assure you." Then with a sardonic note, he added, "It saddens me that you worry more for the bank courier's well-being than my own."

Beka's head snapped back to him, the outrage and hurt showing easily in her heated eyes. "If you think I don't worry about you, all of Corus's craziest mumpers have nothing on you, Rosto the Piper! How dare you… Need I remind you that you are the Rogue, and I am a Dog? If I didn't love you I would not be with you. You are the biggest looby I have ever-" she stopped suddenly. "What are you laughing about?"

Rosto's head was tipped back as he laughed loudly. "I love getting you all hot and bothered," he told her with an insolent wink.

Her mouth closed with an audible clack. Then more calmly, though her voice was still tight, she told him, "I worry every night you don't come to bed. I've seen enough- too much- on duty not to imagine the worst of scenarios whenever you're gone for a couple of days on Rogue business. One night I'm afraid you'll meet the same fate of the haMinch boy."

Eyes softening at her confession, Rosto smiled tenderly up at her. "I can take care of myself, dear. I've been doing it since I was a young lad. And if Kayfer Deerborn made it to be Rogue for as long as he did, I have a feeling I'll be old and gray before I'll give up the throne."

Beka studied his face for a moment before muttering, "You're already old…and probably gray."

Seeing the hint of a smile forming at the corners of her lips, Rosto chuckled. "You ungrateful doxie." Beka's quiet smile spurred him on. "I think I'm owed an apology for hurting my fragile male ego."

The look she gave Rosto in return could only be classified as incredulous. "Your ego is something I shan't ever have to worry about. You strut the streets of the Lower City as if you're Tortall's noblest knight."

"Mayhap this knight you compare me to should take his cue from me then. He'll never lack for female companionship at night." He looked Beka slowly up and down with a grin befitting a Rogue. "Or in the morning." His eyes reflected the suggestive comment when they met hers.

Beka responded by rolling her eyes. "I'm going to visit the spinners and pigeons before going to my lord's house. I don't have time for your games."

"Oh really?"

Her cool resolve was quickly shattered with a yelp as Rosto leapt up and grabbed for her. Lowering his lips to her ear, he said, "I'll send a message to the Lord Provost that you'll be a little late."

"Just a little?" she teased ruthlessly.

Rosto pulled back to give her a look. "There you go deflating my ego again."

Beka laughed. "I'll guess I'll have to make it up to you then." And with that, she reached up and pulled his grinning mouth to hers.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Arrivederci, Dale Rowan! Rosto hopes to never see your face again! Lol. But he did help in getting Fair Flory out of Corus, which in turn alleviated some pressure for Rosto, so we will give him that. Though, yes, this still does not mean we will all like him, so he will just have to live with that dislike haha. (I probably made a few of you too hopeful, putting 'killing' in the chapter title :P) Sorry Dale! Beka and Rosto are just meant to be together! Anyway, next chapter will be up soon! **


	5. A Change in the Guard

**A/N: Happy Holidays, Everybody! Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Five: A Change in the Guard<strong>

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><p>Beka was not the only one made late by their morning fumblings. Rosto couldn't help but grin as he walked through the Lower City, thinking about Beka's comments about him strutting. She was to blame for it this morning and Rosto was in a great mood.<p>

Strolling through one of the Lower City's many markets, Rosto's sharp eyes picked up on a purse snatching right ahead of him. With amusement, he also spotted two Dogs nearby. One was chomping into a pasty as the other flirted with the seller. Neither one had noticed the thief. Rosto shook his head in disapproval. His Beka would already have the thief in her hobbles, recalling her observation of the bag of coins Rosto had given Rowan.

He had not lied to her. The coin he had given the bank courier was for passage. But it wasn't for passage to Port Caynn, and not only passage for him. No, right now Dale Rowan was boarding a boat that would take him and another to the Northern lands of Tortall. The fact that his companion looked suspiciously like the late Rogue of Port Caynn was the reason for the long journey. Fair Flory was not safe anywhere near Port Caynn and if discovered, Rosto would have been accused of concealing her from the Dogs. So when Dale Rowan showed up the day before, Rosto easily obliged when he offered his aid to help her escape Tortall's capital.

Though that still didn't mean Rosto liked the fellow.

Like Beka visited her pigeons and dust spinners, Rosto similarly made calls on his own Birdies. As a relatively new Rogue, Rosto was still cleaning up the Rogue from Kayfer's reign. Like their former Rogue, Kayfer's coves and mots had grown too comfortable and lazy. As a result, Rosto insisted on hearing reports directly from his watchers, while, unbeknownst to the watchers, those already proven loyal to Rosto watched them to make sure they were true in their reports. If what Kayfer's old people reported was true, Rosto was secure in their loyalty to him, if not…arrangements were made to put new people in their place.

Despite having made a sweep through his ranks quickly after his succession to the throne, the people of the Rogue quickly learned that Rosto was not the typical King of Thieves. Rosto the Piper was more often roaming the streets of Corus than sitting by the fire in his headquarters. He was also not averse to taking action, without relying on his people to do all the Court's dealings. He was visible and took an active role.

Walking into one the Lower City's busiest taverns, Rosto took a seat at a table already occupied by a thin middle-aged man.

"Late night, majesty?" the cove asked.

"More like a late morning," Rosto replied with an obscure smile. "What do you have for me today, Wulf?"

Darius Wulf, one of Rosto's most trusted watchers and footman in the Lord Provost's house, placed his forearms on the table and leaned forward.

"I have a feelin' that this bit o' news will be puttin' you in a right bad mood, majesty." Wulf's usually impeccable noble servant accent slipped into the clipped tones of the Lower City where he had been raised. Hearing the slip, Rosto frowned. Wulf continued, "The Council o' Lords met this mornin'."

Wulf looked Rosto square in the eye. "Lord Gershom's done. Lord Valdric is the new Lord Provost."

Rosto's good morning had just taken a sharp turn for the worst.

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><p>The moment Beka walked into Provost's House, she knew something was up. Even Mya seemed distracted as she gave Beka a floury hug before she raced to the oven when Beka remarked about a burning smell. Beka frowned as she watched Mya curse over some burned rolls. In all her years in Provost's House, she had never known Mya to burn anything.<p>

She might want to check the stew, remarked Pounce from beside Beka. She and Mya, hearing Pounce, looked at the big pot suspended over the burning coals. Its contents were starting to boil over the sides. Hurrying to help, Beka asked if there was aught the matter. Mya waved her question aside, all her attention focused instead on the food.

Soon receiving enough assistance from her helpers, Beka exited the kitchen and made her way to Lord Gershom's study. When she reached the heavy oak door, Beka was surprised when it opened to emit Lady Teodorie. Beka blinked before she remembered to bow. Lady Teodorie glanced her way with a stiff nod as she swished passed Beka. Beka turned and watched her retreating back, her eyebrows knit in confusion. Lady Teodorie rarely ever visited Lord Gershom's study. The room, filled with detailed city and Tortallan maps, District reports, and Crown missives reminded the lady of the house too much of her husband's work.

She hadn't even given Beka her usual look of disapproval when she had bowed instead of curtsied. What with Mya's distraction and Lady Teodorie's seemingly good mood, Beka knew something was surely wrong.

But for all her wariness, what Beka learned next she never would have guessed.

Lord Gershom stood with his back to her when she entered, staring with his arms crossed over his chest at his large wall map of Corus.

"I've always liked this map," he remarked after a stretch of silence. "The city looks so clean and organized. So untrue to the reality of it."

Beka's shoulder ached in testament to his words. Some gutter-filling Rat came at her from a dark alley naught but a few nights back, the muscles there still tender. For a moment Rosto came to mind, his dark eyes flat when he had discovered it. But his inventive curses he had muttered over the injury- many of which she suspected were Scanran in origin- had contrasted sharply with his tender touches and soft kisses to her shoulder. Beka held back a smile. Rosto was such a grouch whenever she had so much as a bruise.

"I am no longer Lord Provost, Beka."

Her mind quickly came back to the present as her head snapped up to look once more at Lord Gershom. His face was drawn, his eyes staring, though not seeing, the map on the wall. _What?_

"I…_resigned_ this morning," he continued, though Beka's addled mind was still trying to get her head around his words. What did he mean, he was no longer Lord Provost? He'd been Lord Provost for as long as she'd known him. He loved being Lord Provost. He _resigned?_ "I met with the Council of Lords this morning. And His Majesty. King Roger offered me a new position."

When he informed Beka on the basics of his new position, Beka frowned. "But my lord, that doesn't sound like much of a…"

Lord Gershom's chuckle was devoid of any humor as he cut her off. "Promotion indeed, I know. But one cannot refuse the request of his king."

Her head spinning Beka asked, "Is this why my lady was in such good spirits, my lord?"

His smile was sardonic as he replied, "I take it you noticed." He sighed. "We'll be moving into the palace. My Lady's beside herself with the fact that I'm finally getting out of the Guard and we'll be in the thick of Court Life. Gods save me."

Rooms in the palace? Immediately, Beka's thoughts jumped to her sisters. Unlike her brothers, her two sisters worked for Lady Teodorie. How many maids and seamstresses could she bring to the palace? As if hearing her thoughts, Lord Gershom looked at her. "Lady Teodorie has already arranged to keep your sisters with her as seamstresses. The new Lord Provost will be moving in here in a few weeks time, so the move will be happening quickly."

Dread filled Beka's bones at hearing his words. "Replacement, my lord?" Before he let the name pass his lips, Beka already knew. Lord Valdric was the new Lord Provost. The pox-rotting, Deputy Provost of Port Caynn. Beka was not one to spit, but she found herself hard-pressed not to show her disgust in a way usually favored by her partner Tunstall. Beka ground her teeth to keep from voicing her thoughts, for it was for naught. Lord Gershom shared the same opinion of Lord Valdric as she.

They talked longer until Lady Teodorie reappeared with a harried footman named Wulf. Seeing Beka still there, she smiled, "Beka, dear, why don't you go say goodbye to your sisters? We will be in the palace by this time next week, gods willing." Beka had a feeling that the fact that she would not be able to influence her sisters with her street work was most pleasing to Lord Gershom's lady. Despite wanting to talk further with Lord Gerhom, she knew when she had been dismissed, as that was what his lady clearly had done.

* * *

><p>Rosto had made enough recent trips to Port Caynn to know first-hand how the city ran under the thumb of Lord Valdric of Stone Hollow. Ever since Fair Flory had fled the city to seek protection from him in Corus, Rosto had been all but sitting in as Port Caynn's Rogue. With her help, he had sought out her most loyal followers in the port city and they were still able to run the city's streets without an actual Rogue to sit on their throne. As Rosto soon had discovered, and hoped, the fact that Port Caynn's Court carried on without a thief king to put the blame on, turned to an advantage. Delegating to Fair Flory's supporters was the best action they could have taken.<p>

Now the sarden Deputy Provost was taking over Lord Gershom's position and moving to Corus.

Silently moving through the streets of the Lower City, Rosto kept his wits about him as he thought. His ears picked up sounds most would miss, and his eyes caught the slightest movements behind gaps in wooden shutters. He felt no threats this night nor did he expect any for many nights to come, for one thing Rosto was certain- the city hummed with the news of the new Lord Provost, and no one, not even the young bucks wanting to prove themselves, wanted his throne now. Everyone knew what had happened in Port Caynn, and it was only a matter of time before Lord Valdric would try it in Corus.

Arriving at Mistress Trout's lodgings, Rosto entered through the back entrance and climbed the stairs to Beka's rooms. Ruefully he thought of his quarters across the street at the Dove as he stepped inside. By comparison, Beka's place was vastly smaller, and although she didn't prize herself on possessions, slightly cramped.

He spotted her writing journal on her bedside table and a smile quirked his lips. One morning he had awoken to find her sitting up in the bed beside him, hunched over the book, biting her lip as she concentrated on filling the pages. Quiet as a cat, he had propped himself up and teased, "Anything steamy in there I should know about?"

It was difficult to surprise the city's Terrier and Bloodhound, but the quick elbow shove to his chest had swiftly reminded Rosto that she angered quickly when caught off guard. Seeing the journal now brought back that pleasant memory.

Rosto eyed the bed and cursed when Achoo poked her head out from underneath the covers. If there was one thing he missed about sleeping in his own rooms, it was the large bed. Beka's bed was barely big enough for her and Rosto, even though Achoo seemed to underestimate her size whenever she tried to wriggle in between them.

Despite the fact that Rosto had made it plain that the only Dog he liked to sleep with was Beka, Achoo got to her feet on the bed to lick Rosto happily. After her sloppy greetings were over, Achoo leapt off the bed and Rosto's warm body replaced Achoo's at Beka's back.

Stirring, Beka turned her head toward him. "Rosto-"

He silenced her with a soft press of his lips. "No talking tonight, Cooper. I'm worn out."

"But-"

"Shh, love. We'll talk about it in the morning- or afternoon, depending when I finally lift my head from this pillow."

He knew she wanted to talk about the change in Lord Provost, but Rosto knew the conversation would not be a short one, and they were both tired.

But she tried again, albeit sleepily, "Rosto…"

Grinning as he placed a few soft kisses down her neck, Rosto teased, "Beka, I know you want me, but some nights a cove just needs to rest."

Beka swatted back at his head, but given the angle and her sleepiness, it was only half-hearted and easily avoided. "That's not what I was wanting-"

With a quick kiss to her cheek, he replied, "I know. We'll talk tomorrow, I promise. Now, sleep."

She mumbled something softly, already fading back into sleep.

Instead of settling down beside her, Rosto looked down at Beka, already sound asleep. She knew as well as he did that the change in Lord Provost would bring about many changes. Not only would it make problems for him as a Rogue, but he knew it was going to strain his relationship with Beka. Now, more than ever, their relationship was about to be put to the test- and he'd do all he could to see it succeed.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Oh, boy. Here we go. Lord Valdric's coming to Corus. The plot thickens!**


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